


Gone

by transboysora



Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: Angst, M/M, really not much else
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-14
Updated: 2017-06-14
Packaged: 2018-11-13 22:57:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11195211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/transboysora/pseuds/transboysora
Summary: Mike dies. Harvey (tries to) cope.





	Gone

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for this (potentially) sad shit nobody wants or asked for. 
> 
> I'd really really love reviews but _please_ keep in mind this was written as a way for me to cope with something that happened to me recently so anything out of character is likely me projecting like a motherfucker.

Harvey doesn’t usually dwell on things he can’t change, or at least he tries not to. The lengths he goes to to not think about things may even border on repression sometimes but he’d learned long ago that indulging his more negative thoughts did nothing but make him irrational and less able to focus on the bigger picture.

None of this changes the fact that in this moment he feels dizzyingly sick with the news he’d been delivered what felt like hours but could only have been minutes ago; he’s collapsed in his chair and it takes him three fumbling tries to loosen his tie with shaking hands and sweaty palms. His eyes are darting to and fro, unable to settle on one thing as his vision tunnels and swims with what would be tears if he dared let them fall.

He realizes, absentminded and dazed, that the entirety of the firm could very well be witness to his breakdown through glass walls. It should stir something like embarrassment in him, should make him want to get up and _do_ something but he’s barely managing breathing (albeit shakily) and, miraculously, keeping the bile rising in his throat down so he doesn’t get sick.  


* * *

_Harvey knows something is gravely wrong when he looks up from his desk and sees Donna walk into his office with a stricken look on her face and tears leaving diluted black makeup tracks down too pink cheeks. He stands up in alarm, walking to meet her halfway in the middle of the room. He opens his mouth to ask what’s wrong, who or what made her this upset but she shakes her head before he has the opportunity to get more than a syllable out and holds up a hand for him to stop._

__

__

_“Harvey,” she starts, and her voice kills him a little inside. It’s a sickening mix of devastation and regret, like she knows what she says next will hurt him even more than it had evidently hurt her. He knows she’s right when he hears the next words out of her mouth. “It’s Mike.” she chokes on his name at the same time he chokes on the breath he’d been holding. “There was an accident.”_

____

__

_“When can I see him?” He’s taken two paces toward the door, though freezes when he hears nothing but a sob in response. It takes him a beat, two, before he can bring himself to turn around and look a his secretary questioningly. “Donna?” Her name holds a question and she just shakes her head, either unable or unwilling to elaborate. “Donna!” He doesn’t mean to yell, doesn’t intend to walk forward and grab her by the shoulders but he does and shakes a little, as though he could force the information he needed out of her. She doesn’t manage words for another moment and Harvey feels like there’s a hand squeezing his stomach tighter and tighter with every passing second. His desperation has to be written on his face; she wouldn’t be looking at him like that otherwise. “You can’t.”_

____

____

_He scoffs at the words, eyes rolling as if to say ‘just watch me’ because there was no way he’d be stopped by hospital protocol or something equally as trivial. “What do you mean I_ can’t _?”_

__

_Donna clenches her eyes shut tightly in pain before inhaling shakily and opening them again, shooting him a look imploring him to understand something. “Harvey…”_

_He stares at her in wide-eyed disbelief as it dawns on him, hits him like a ton of bricks and his knees buckle violently as the hand yanks his stomach straight through to his feet. He stumbles to his chair with a noise of pain he doesn’t even recognize as coming from himself and rests his elbows on the desk in front of him before letting his head fall to his hands. No. Nonononono._

____

____

* * *

By the time Harvey’s finally lifted his head up and pulled himself out of his stupor Donna is back at her desk, fielding phone calls and likely freeing up his schedule for the next few days. He makes a mental note to thank her profusely, unsure if he could deal with clients in his state. She turns to look at him, as if sensing his stare on her, and they exchange solemn nods before something or other makes the redhead face her computer once more.

He stands, feeling weaker than he has in a long, long while. There’s no point in staying at the office — the same office where thoughts of Mike are likely to drive him crazy, where feelings threaten to claw their way out of his throat and leave him torn up from the inside out, where he can practically _see_ Mike standing, laughing, just _existing_ in a way he’ll never get to again and fuck, _fuck_ Harvey needs to get out — when he could finish his breakdown at home in relative peace.

He calls Ray and makes it to his apartment on autopilot, finds he still feels impossibly suffocated even with most of the components of his day-wear shed save for his undershirt and boxers. He pours and downs three fingers of his strongest scotch, repeating the process twice before nearly tossing the empty cup into the sink with little regard for its safety. The man staggers to and all but flops down on his bed, feeling heavy with the dread still weighing him down. He closes his eyes only briefly and sees Mike, opens them and finds visions of him come unbidden no matter what. He’s not sure he’d want to stop thinking of Mike even if he could, knows, knows _very_ well he should for the sake of his sanity and well-being but it was too easy to conjure the memories, too easy to lose himself in the sheer depth of his feelings for his former (and god, does that word leave a sour, unpalatable taste in his mouth) associate, and too, _too_ easy to pretend he’d see him perfectly fine and alive tomorrow.

He falls asleep with half formed wishes of a better reality in his head and a palpable longing in his heart.

**Author's Note:**

> coming up: anger and regrets  
> EDIT: its been a couple months and i cant quite manage another chapter so ill be marking this as finished! message me if you wanna know what i had in mind, i guess?


End file.
